


Love At First Sight (College AU) Patrick Stump x Dallon Weekes

by OhFrankie



Category: Fall Out Boy, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Bandom - Freeform, Bands, FOB, Fandom, Gay, M/M, MCR, Multi, Music, Panic, fall out boy - Freeform, idkhow, odd ship, patd - Freeform, ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 01:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhFrankie/pseuds/OhFrankie
Summary: He's Popular, He's not. He's 6'4, he's 5'5. He's 'straight', he's in the closet.-Dallon Weekes is nothing short of your classic college kid, a party animal; he's known as the most popular boy on campus, but after a failed relationship, Dallon is left reeling in pain then a short strawberry blonde boy by the name of Patrick crosses paths with him, both boys begin to question their feelings for each other and must learn to love in a world that doesn't want them to be.





	Love At First Sight (College AU) Patrick Stump x Dallon Weekes

_ Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye. _

_ \- H. Jackson Brown, Jr. _

_ Patrick POV _

It is an early frosty October morning. The air is slightly cold, just enough to nip at your fingers and snatch the tiniest bit of heat from your body like an unseen thief. The leaves are a fiery colour, an array of brilliant oranges, deep reds, mustard yellows and earthly shades of decaying brown. Dawn has broken moments ago, lighting the sky with pinks and blues and reds, a beautiful scene. Birds tweet and chirp as they fly home to feed their hungry babies. The campus begins to become alive. Lights turning on; tired souls preparing for classes and for an eventful day where they may learn something that will stick with them for the rest of their lives.

 

The light shines through my bedroom window, disturbing me from my sleep. The sun rays cast themselves upon my white bedsheets, throwing themselves across my posters that hang perfectly on my wall. My eyes take a minute to adjust, as I reach over, turning as I do so, to grab my glasses that sit on the bedside table. I could wear contacts, but for someone who is submerged under a great load of work, well I’d rather save the time. My alarm springs to life, bleating like a goat as it signals me to open my already wide-awake eyes. I slam my hand down on it. Can’t handle that noise this early. Think I might just get rid of it.

 

My phone buzzes as I swing my legs over the side of the bed but I can’t be bothered seeing who has decided to message me at 6:00 am. Whoever it is can fuck off. I sit for a minute, yawning and stretching. I stand up, my feet hitting the soft material of the rug underfoot. I plod across it, reaching the opposite side of the dorm room. I stare down at the sleeping man, the way his curls fall on the pillow; his semi-open mouth, his slight stubble and his bare chest staring back at me. I slap his head, not so hard but not softly either and he groans. His eyelids crinkle before he opens them, revealing bright blue eyes that are registering me standing there.

 

_ “ _ fuck...off Patrick” He grumbles lowly, turning over in bed and pulling the covers over his body. I tug on a sleepy smile “Joe”

 

_ “ _ no, don’t Joe me” he grumbles again “Fuck off, It’s 6 am, I’m half-pissed and tired” he adds on. I chuckle. Trust him to stay out late drinking. He’ll probably make an effort to show up to class at one, but if he doesn’t then I’ll know that he’s probably still in bed or on another drinking spree. Man sees college as a way to escape his parents—I see college as a chance to further my education.

 

I reach over to his wardrobe, pulling out a t-shirt. “Borrowing this” I say, he doesn’t bother to look at what shirt I’m holding in my hand, he just lets out a “mmhmm” in return. I cross back over to my side, retrieving my black jeans from the ground. Still clean enough for another day. I sling them over my arm, grabbing my wash-bag and tugging open the dorm door. The picture of the half naked Playboy bunny girl pinned to the door falls off, the noise doesn’t wake Joe—who would skin me alive if anything happened to the poster. It lands on the ground, curled over. I wish he’d get rid of the thing. Too many nights I’ve woke up to think that perhaps some half-naked girl has managed to get herself lost in my dorm room.

 

I shut the door behind me as I stand in the now barely-lit dorm corridor. Nobody else is awake here. A draft of cold air brushes my exposed legs, trust me to sleep in my boxers when it’s the middle of October. I shiver slightly, but I know the shower block is just around the corner and in no time I’ll be warm. I plod across the thick ugly red carpet that covers the hallway floor and finally I reach the shower block. I swing open the door. Hot steam that’s thick in the air, hits me as soon as I step in. My stomach drops.

 

I didn’t expect someone else to be in here. Of course I didn’t, I picked 6 am in the morning to shower, because nobody else is  _ in here  _ at this time. But apparently someone got up extra early this morning.

 

It’s problematic. Any sane person would just exchange a head nod and clamber into a shower cubicle but not me. I have problems with socialising and a head nod is extremely hard to do if you’re taking an anxiety attack. I stand still, like a deer caught in the headlights. My brain throwing all sorts of insults at me as I continue to listen to the soft water splashes of the stranger. That, of course, isn’t the only noise. The stranger is a ‘sing in the shower’ type of guy, as right now he’s belting out  _ Oueen’s somebody to love _ like his life depends on it. His voice is brilliant however. Usually when kids try sing at this college, they sound like a cat being strangled but this kid sounds professional. For a moment, I get lost in his voice. Deep but not too deep, with a bit of that husk a rock star has. He sounded somewhat like  _ Thom Yorke.  _ But, dare I say, better.

 

I’m lost in thought about this Young  _ Thom Yorke _ , singing  _ Somebody to love _ better than I could ever do, when the shower stops running and the familiar sound of metal curtain hoops sliding across a metal curtain rail meets my ears. The man who had been singing  _ Queen _ , steps out of the cubicle.

 

I gulp. Obviously I do, because he’s clothed in just a small white towel wrapped around his lower half. His light creamy skin sparkling with beads of water, his short-damp hair pushed away from his face. His legs are incredibly long and I realise he is  _ incredibly  _ tall. He has an etched in v-line that peeked over the white cloth wrapped tightly around his hipbones. I gulp again, this time more audibly.

 

He doesn’t notice me standing there at first, as I watch him dry off his handsomely sculpted torso, like some sort of small pervert. My mind is now telling me to go, to  _ actually  _ move before he spots me, and I go to do just that when he finally notices my presence. He looks up, his blue eyes underlined with black bags that show me that he has trouble sleeping, they lock with mine. His eyebrows knit together. He looks confused and he goes to open his mouth to say something but is interrupted by the sudden singing of the actual  _ Thom Yorke,  _ blaring out of his iPhone that sits on the sink. His attention breaks from me as I take this distraction to scramble into the nearest cubicle. 

 

The snippet of the song still plays however:

_ Don't get my sympathy, hanging out the fifteenth floor _

_ You've changed the locks three times _

_ He still comes reeling through the door _

_ One day I'll get to you _

_ And teach you how to get to purest hell _

 

And I know that song. _Just_. One of my favourites. I stop, mid-way of taking my clothes off because the song snippet plays out again. The voice filling the air, but this time it gets to ‘three times’ before he answers.

 

_ “ _ I told you to leave me alone” He states, in a tone of voice that tells me he’s pissed off. I don’t know if I should just run out of here like some mad animal, perhaps like a greyhound running for the mechanical rabbit. I felt awkward standing here, hearing the soft sighs of a man who is clearly very emotional. You can tell a lot from a sigh.

_ “ _ Breezey, We talked about this I-” The man stops talking, allowing the other person on the phone to have their say. “No...No” He says softly and my mind envisions him leaning against the white wall, his back on the cool tile. His slender fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his white towel way too tight…

 

_ “ _ FUCK OFF! JUST FUCK OFF! You expect me to take you back now? Do you think I’m some sort of fucking fool? I did nothing but love you, Bree. I was in love with you,  _ in love  _ and this is what you do to me? You cheat on-” he’s cut off again by the girl gone victim, but that wasn’t the case. “FUCK YOU!” And there’s a loud banging noise that sounds a lot like thunder, I open my shower curtain in time to watch his phone clatter to the ground and watch this tall man crumble, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

 

Did I have a clue on what to do next? Fuck no. I just stood there like some awkward weirdo staring at a half naked man, who is clearly going through a tough time, with no idea on how to approach him or ask ‘Hey sir, you alright? I just heard what happened with the girl... you know how women are, can’t live with them can’t live without them’, No he’s going to hate me, I heard everything. It’s none of my business after all, maybe he will let me go unscathed.

 

_ “ _ Sorry” He states, takes me a second to realise he’s talking to me and not the heavens above. Although he looks slightly like a religious type. Mormon maybe. “I-It’s okay!” I croak out. Could I sound any more pathetic? “Sorry, you had to hear that” He says sadly, he looks up. His blue eyes are now red around the edges and there’s tears running down his face. “No No it’s okay, I really didn-”

  
  


I stop. What am I supposed to say? He looks like he doesn’t care what leaves my mouth. I smile softly, hoping it looks reassuring. Then I spot his hand. Pale blue, bust, pumping red blood, spewing it out like a monster onto the white tiles. I panic.

  
  


_ “ _ What the fuck did you do?” I say, dashing over and holding his hand in mine. My eyes scanning the damage. This could be serious, yet he doesn’t pull away when I expect him too. He just looks up at me, doesn’t say anything, just holds some strange look in those ocean blue eyes of his. “I’m going to touch it now?” is that what she said? Could I crack one of those jokes at the sentence that had just left my dumb mouth? And the situation would just look even fucking worse if someone happened to walk in. That would be quite a sight. One half naked man in a towel on the ground, whereas the other is shirtless and has his bloodied hand in his. Someone somewhere would enjoy this.

  
  


I brush my thumb over his swollen bloodied knuckles and he winces, hissing in pain, he yanks his hand back-not fully however, just enough for me to know he’s in pain and done some real damage. “Shit” I say under my breath, I turn to him. My heart leaping in my throat at the very sight of him. He’s handsome. “You have to go to the nurse alright?”

 

He manages a nod, his eyes still wide. I stand up, suddenly not in need of a shower. Instead in need of getting the fuck out of there. He keeps his eyes on me even when I retrieve my things. It is only when I go to leave, he shouts “Wait” and I watch him stand up. Blood trickling down his fingers.

 

I feel obliged to. He’s having a hell of a day, and if he wants my short ass to stay for a few minutes then I will or maybe I’m just scared to move, maybe he’s going to beat the shit out of me. Mormon or not, he still could win in a fight. I look at him, gulp down whatever words that want to spill out of me. Don’t fucking say anything Patrick don’t-

_ “ _ Do you know on its  one-year anniversary , the NASA's  Curiosity  Rover sang the  “Happy Birthday”  tune to itself on Mars?”

 

_ Oh Patrick, what the fuck did you just say? _

 

The boy furrows his eyebrows but half laughs. “Well” He chuckles softly, “that’s depressing”

 

_ “ _ Yeah” I gulp, “pretty sad”

 

The bathroom door swings open. Another boy stands, scratching his forehead. His sleepy eyes taking in the sight of me and tall boy-nice smile over there. The new kid stands in nothing but his boxers, giving me the view of his nice sculpted torso. Feeling sort of attacked here. I can see my pudge eyeing me.

 

_ “ _ Dallon” The boy croaks out, his large eyebrows furrowed. I take this sudden distraction as my way of escape and bolt past the sleepy boy, straight out of the bathroom door and back down the corridor to my bedroom. I burst through the dorm door, Joe screams at the sudden disturbance and then instantly becomes silent when he sees it is only me.

 

_ “ _ Fucking hell Patty” He curses, pulling on his boxers. I catch a glimpse of his ass before it’s shoved into the material, I grimace and Joe catches me. “Well that’s rude, your ass isn’t amazing either” “You haven’t seen my ass” “ _ Sure” _ I blink at his reply, “What do you mean sure?”

 

_ “ _ I’m just saying-” Joe begins, his hands pulling clothes from his wardrobe. “Yours isn’t exactly ass of the year” “Joe, shut the fuck up?”

 

_ “ _ No, I wanna talk about this” He replies, his hands now frantically searching for something “Fuck, have you seen my  _ Joy Division _ shirt?” I pull it free from the pile of clothes on my bed and he thanks me. “Okay so let me get this straight, you want to talk about my ass?” I ask, a bemused smile on my face “Are you sure you’re not gay?” He tugs the shirt over his head “No” He says through a huffed breath as he finally manages to get it on over his body, “You’re the one sitting there shirtless”

My eyes went down to my body and then back up at him, I snatched up a hoodie from the floor, throwing it on. Joe chuckles. 

 

“Which asks the question..what made you leave the shower block so soon...perhaps a Little lady or...a manly man?” He waggles his eyebrows and I grimace again. “No shut the fuck up.” He chuckles, clearly loving the fact that he can make my face turn bright red. “If you must know-” I state, standing up and beginning to clear away the clothes piled on my bed, “I bumped into Dallon Weekes.”

 

Joe drops his skinny jeans like they were a burning hot coal. They sink sadly back onto the floor, crumpled. He slowly looks up at me and does this sort of confused smile. “Dallon Weekes?” He asks. I, myself, have only heard snippets of the great ‘Dallon James Weekes’ through various sources. He’s a brilliant man apparently, good with the ladies, party animal, has a football scholarship and is well versed in English literature. I heard one of his favourite authors is Hemingway, but I have no clue why a guy like him would read such terribly boring novels.

 

_ “ _ Did he like you-you know like, did he seem okay with you?” Joe asks, now very interested in what events took place in the shower block. I shrug. “He wasn’t all over me” I say “But something about a Breezey, seemed to occupy him instead, besides the only time we interacted is when I told the poor kid to go see the nurse, anger issues” I add on “He punched the hand dryer.”

 

Well that brought a smile to Joe’s face. “Darling little angel Patrick” he cooed “You were sent from the heavens.” It was no secret that Dallon threw the wildest parties on campus and associating yourself with the likes of Dallon Weekes, would lead to large amounts of girls sucking up to you and sucking you, just to get close to the campus star; Dallon. So Joe probably thinks I’m on Dallon’s guest list for future events and that some chicks are gonna throw themselves at my wannabe rockstar roomate. I sigh. “Don’t get your hopes up Joe” but he was already sailing away on that dream boat, down a stream full of naked girls.

 

_ “ _ Well, this could be good for you Patty” Joe says, clapping my back and picking up books from his messy desk “You could finally get over E and fuck some girl-or boy and live free”

 

_ “ _ I think part of you is stuck in the 70s” I retort “Nobody lives free” I add “Not with student loans, and Donald Trump as our president” and he chuckles and walks out the room, thick brown curls disappearing and I am left wondering where the hell Joe is going at 6:45 am, because his class doesn’t start till 9. I smile to myself, wait around till it turns 7:00 and shuffle my way back to shower block, where steam has left and silence has returned and a barely clothed boy is nowhere to be seen.

  
  


_ Dallon POV _

Fuck me. That little ginger boy was right, I had fucked up my hand pretty badly. Fuck Breezey. Fuck the nurse, although I heard Brendon already had. But seriously, I can deal with this pain. I could put up with this and besides Coach won’t stand for me missing a practice. He’d tell me to suck it up, but I really don’t think I can force the blood to go back inside my hand, and maybe going to the nurse would be a good idea. I drag my feet off over the side of my bed, scramble around the drawer beside me for a bandage and find an old shirt that will do the job just as well, and the door opens just when I’m tearing a strip with my teeth. 

 

Brendon raises his split eyebrow (he got hit with a bottle apparently) and says “Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” He crosses the room, tugging off his shirt and throwing himself down on his bed. I chuckle. “Not much to see considering it was a hand dryer.”

 

_ “ _ Did it insult your mother?” He asks with a smug grin and I smiled a little. “So why’d you hit the thing?” he questions, typing to someone and not looking up from his phone when I said “Because Breezey called.”

 

_ “ _ Oh” He replies. Brendon hates her just as much as I do, but I was the one dumb enough to date the girl. Brendon grins and I realise he’s probably texting some girl to hook up with after I’ve left. “Who you talking to?” I ask and now finally he meets my gaze. “Oh...uh...Rebecca?...I want to say Rebecca...not sure” He squints in thought.

_ “ _ What happened to Haley?” I say and he shrugs like he doesn’t remember the emo chick he was fucking just last week. I shrug it off too. I think I’ve sworn off women for a while. I can’t stand them. I can’t stand her.

 

_ “ _ Anyway, I just was with Jess and wow, that girl wasn’t lying when she said she was flexible” Brendon chuckles and I attempt to laugh too but it just doesn’t come out. Instead I just smile an uncomfortable smile that Brendon picks up on and discards his phone for, because he wants to help out a bro in need.

 

“Look, it’s been a month...you’ll get over her soon enough Dal, you just gotta find the right girl to take your mind off things, you remember how I was after Sarah?”

_ “ _ A mess” I reply. To which I reminisce about how Brendon spent our first week of college together in bed because his long-term girlfriend had decided she didn’t need him anymore.

 

_ “ _ Exactly, and now I’m thriving. I miss her sometimes, all men who have been through heartbreak like us, will think about the girls who broke us. But to hell with them, they want us to be all depressed over them-it’s like a last ‘fuck you’. You have to show them you don’t give a shit” and perhaps then I realise how lucky I am to have a friend like Brendon. I nod and try to drive the subject away from my failed relationship, but Brendon beats me to it.

 

_ “ _ So, who was that kid you were sharing a nice little moment with?” He grins, I roll my eyes “I don’t know, he just came to help after seeing me all-” I held up my arm “Bruised and battered from my fight with the hand dryer”

_ “ _ Oooh” Brendon cooes “A knight in shining armor?” and again I roll my eyes. “No, he was just being nice.”

 

_ “ _ Okay s _ ure”  _ Brendon replies, “I think I know him” I perk up a bit at that and I don’t know why. Part of me just wants to know who the kid is so I can thank him. I think. Nothing else. “Patrick Stump” Brendon hums “Yeah, I have a class with him...cute little fella. Not my type of course, bit too nerd-meets-chicago-sweetheart, for me. But hey, if that’s what you’re into-”

 

_ “ _ Brendon I’m not” I state. He’s getting a little on my nerves, trying to change my sexuality for me. I’m straight. Just ‘cause I haven’t fucked a girl in a month doesn’t mean shit. I’m getting over a girl, and another pair of tits won’t help that. I hear him snicker.

 

_ “ _ Wasn’t Ryan like that when you met him?” I question “All cutesy little cub from Vegas with big ol’ soft eyes-”

 

_ “ _ Shut up” Brendon says coldly and I look up from fixing my t-shirt bandage and realise he’s not laughing. No. I crossed a line. His jaw is clenched, he’s got fire in his eyes. “I didn-” “Anyway” He stands abruptly, snatching up a white dress shirt and giving me a slice of silence whilst he buttoned it up and fixed his hair.

 

“I’ll be at Adam’s party, if you need me that is” and I nod and understand the wound of his past fling was still healing and I had came along and had threw salt in it, of course it would sting. Sometimes I wish I could shut my mouth just like the way Brendon has shut the door behind him.

 

I decide a walk is good for me, I feel guilty when I pass the nurse’s office and tug the jacket sleeve down over my arm. I feel like a kid hiding a black eye from his mother. But she doesn’t come out yelling and screaming “Dallon James Weekes, what have you gone and done now!?” in fact, she doesn’t come out at all and I think perhaps she might be tending to some kid sick in his or her dorm room right now. I take the winding path outside, the one that leads me through the crunchy autumn leaves that have covered the dark grey concrete. My mind in deep thought. Sure the ginger kid-sorry, Patrick he seemed nice. But how could Brendon really think, that I swung that  _ way? _ Did he know who I was?

  
  


Still, whenever I closed my eyes, I saw pale skin and soft strawberry blonde hair and a weird sensation filled my stomach. What was wrong with me? Am I losing my shit? Stop. Stop Dallon right now. I raise my eyes from the grey scattered with red and yellow leaves blowing around my legs, to see the kid running across the campus a few feet away from me. I smile to myself, I don’t know why, but a grin finds its way onto my face. He stumbles, nearly dropping his books and I watch amused as he struggles with the door and finally he opens it and walks inside. I follow him, mostly out of curiosity to see who he’s meeting, or to see what he’s doing. He huffs his books into his other arm, approaching a table that seated a brunette girl with big brown eyes. I racked my brain for her face because I knew I had seen her somewhere before. Then suddenly, a match was detected.

  
  


Naomi Hanna, English Major, not an active Party goer, but when she does attend—according to Brendon, the girl is an ‘animal that cannot be tamed’. That for some reason, I cannot seem to believe. I’m in the same class as her, she’s quiet, always well prepared for tests and cranks out the right answer whenever she’s asked to. So an ‘animal that cannot be tamed’ is not the phrase that comes to mind right now as I’m watching her sit cooped up with a book in her lap. “Sorry I’m late” I hear Patrick say and for a brief second I wonder if the two are dating and my stomach suddenly gets another strange feeling. I ignore it. 

  
  


Naomi looks up from her book, a smile on her face. “Don’t worry about it Patty-” A cute pet name “I just got here like five minutes ago” Patrick smiles back, sitting down and dumping his books on the wooden table. I scoot down an aisle, peering through books to catch glimpses of them. Fuck. What  _ am _ I doing?

  
  


_ “ _ So-” Naomi states shutting her book, “I was thinking, I could come to practice today? You know ‘cause Pete is losing his fucking mind over writing lyrics and I think I could maybe help out” She smiles hopefully, I can sense the desperation in her voice, almost see the ‘please say yes’ beaming from her eyes. Patrick rubs his nose, wrinkling it straight after and my stomach flips. He pouts for a second, then looks directly at her “Naomi, I don’t know. Pete’s obsessive with his lyrics-”

 

_ “ _ Well, what about just setting up for you guys?”

 

_ “ _ Joe does that. He knows how to do it. Naomi, come on. You’re better off in your own band. You’re lead, you always have been. You’re not meant to be hidden behind a curtain” Patrick replies, resting his hand on hers and giving her a reassuring look. Naomi sighs.

 

“I guess. Whatever. Can I still watch you guys play?”

 

_ “ _ Of course” Patrick smiles. I stand behind the bookcase, staring at him. Wondering why exactly my brain has decided to fucking log him in like a diary entry. Why I’m listing his appearance in bullet points in red ink. I’ve lost my mind. Breezey fucked me over and now look where I am.

 

He looks past her, at me. Directly at me. And for a split-second I forget that I’m standing here. Instead I’m lost in him. Then it hits me like the blush that’s hit his cheeks, and I scramble, panic and grab the first book I see,  flipping it open and rounding the corner . I’m in plain sight. A willing target, He could sniper me with those sea-green eyes. An ocean washing over me. Something about him is refreshing.

  
  


_ “ _ What’s up?” Naomi asks, looking around her, spotting me pretending to lean against a wall. Trying to act as calm and collected as one possibly can,and perhaps failing miserably but Now I feel Patrick’s eyes leave me and I stop trying so hard. “N-Nothing” He gulps, but I can’t help but peak at him from out the corner of my eye and see the soft pink smile spread on his face. Something inside of me flashes, like being struck by lightning; a spark of some sort. Naomi furrows her eyebrows. Her eyes looking between me and Patrick. Then all of a sudden her eyes make the connection as if she could see the interaction me and her buddy shared this morning. Her face lights up and there’s a hint of mischief in her smile. “Oh boy” I hear her whisper “Is that  _ Dallon Weekes?” _

  
  


_ “ _ Yeah” Patrick states coolly, clearing his throat and flipping open his book. Naomi blinks, sitting up straight, blinks again then says “Can you please explain why you’ve gone a shade of fucking red?” Her grin is playful. She’s toying with him and I can’t help but smile to myself.

  
  


_ “ _ I haven’t!” Patrick squeaks, his neck snapping up to look at her. She raises an eyebrow. “ _ Patrick”  _ she cooes in a tell-me tone. Patrick shuffles around in his chair, glances at me and I manage just in time to look away. A split second longer and i would have been fucked. “Ugh, I met him in the shower room this morning, he fucked his knuckle up and I told him to see a nurse” He utters. Swearing? I smirk.

 

Well, that’s not exactly how it went.

 

_ “ _ I feel like you’ve left out a big part of the story- shower room? I mean were you-” She giggles and leans in closer, whispers but loud enough for me to hear “naked?”

Patrick turns an even darker shade. “Fuck off! I wasn’t”

 

Something about such an innocent looking man cursing with such a casual ease, is strange. Strange in the sense that it’s like seeing an Angel curse, or drink, or fuck around--they are godly creatures, right hand men (and women) to the big man himself so such sins are thrown out of the window, frowned upon, hidden behind darkened curtains for the demons to toy with. He’s an angel, a cherub just less child-like and his foul mouth has made my limbs tingle. Something feels incredibly odd.

 

She raises an eyebrow “Him?” She gestures to me with her thumb. I smirk to myself. Patrick glares daggers at her. “He-” He begins, groans, shakes his head and says “He only had a towel on”

 

Naomi squeals, causing a kid nearby to shush her. She ignores him completely, leaning forward towards Patrick. “How was he? I mean...what’s he look like under there?”

 

Now, this is a conversation worth hearing. 

 

Patrick lets out a sigh, biting his bottom lip. “He….It’s perfect, he’s toned Naomi, he has those v-line thingys, and he’s so tall, his legs are literally so fucking hot. His chest-” Naomi nods excitedly as Patrick gushes, whispering way too fucking loudly. “-But—i fucked it up” Patrick finishes.

  
  


You didn’t.

  
  


_ “ _ What how?” Naomi asked, frowning. Patrick hangs his head “I did the thing” He states, groaning softly. Naomi leans back. “Oh, Patty. You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t. What was it? What fact this time?”

  
  


Patrick puffs out his cheeks then frowns. “The rover one”

  
  


_ “ _ Fucksake Patty. You’re honestly just as bad as me at talking to guys.” She grins, looking at me as I’m pondering whether or not I should join them. I can’t stop the burning feeling in my chest. So the little patty thinks I’m hot? Suppose he’s not that bad himself. And the rover thing was adorable. I mean—I needed that. I needed a distraction. I stalk over to them, finally gaining the courage to. “Hi” I say. Patrick doesn’t even look up, I picture his cheeks to be bright red as he hangs his head down. I smile, dropping down my book and sitting down beside Naomi. “How are you guys?”

  
  


_ “ _ I’m good” Naomi replies “Naomi” She says, offering her hand; I shake it. “Yeah I know, we have english together, plus Brendon knows you” I reply. She nods “Yeah, fuck Boyd honestly. He was meant to text me yesterday but he didn’t. Could you ask him to reply to me because I really need my shirt back” I look at her. “Did you guys-”

  
  


_ “ _ Woah! N-n-no!” Naomi chokes, “I wouldn’t- me? Him?-no-no way” She chuckles nervously, her face red. Karma. “He fucking has a shirt of mine because he spilled wine on me and I made him fucking take it so he can take it to the dry cleaners. Instead I think he just fucking put it under his bed” I look at Patrick who has yet to look at me. “So Patrick, I wanted to say Thanks for before. I mean-”

 

_ “ _ You’re welcome!” He beams, finally looking up, his face bright red. My chest aches. “Though” He begins, frowning “I didn’t necessarily helped you much” I smile at him, run a hand (the good one not the fucked one) through my hair and say “Well the rover thing. It helped me, I mean because I was having an argument with my ex—which by the way, I apologise for shouting-” I can’t stop myself from rambling. Fuck sake. What does he think of me? A rambling idiot? Fuck. Fuuuuck.

 

_ Patrick Pov _

He looks so pretty. So fucking hot. His mouth moves in such a beautiful way. Is it wrong of me to crush on him? Is it? He’s straight so any fucking chance at a relationship is fucking out of the window. Not like I stand a chance anyway, with every girl on campus chasing him, why in the world would he pick a chubby fat boy? Fuck me, i’m screwed. His hair is perfect. I glance at Naomi and she’s grinning like the grinch. His blue eyes are like ocean waves, pulling me under and drowning me. I make eye contact for split second, my heart like a hammer in my chest, his soft smile is like the warmth of the sun shining down on me-- okay maybe i’ve been reading too much poetry but I can relate to some of the things these romantics had to say. Naomi’s grin gets wider, my gaze shifts to her and i realise both my friend and potential crush are looking at me expectantly and my saliva gets caught in my throat and I cough. Loudly. “ _ Patrick _ ” Naomi cooes and I flash her a quick ‘keep going and I’ll kill you’ glance and she stifles a laugh. “Did you say something?” i ask dallon “I just never got a lot of sleep last night so you know I’m a bit spacey” I blush and I’m suddenly aware of how close Dallon is, just sitting there across from me looking amazing as if angels kissed his cheeks as soon as he stepped out of bed this morning. “I just asked if you would like to come to a Party this weekend? It’s a halloween party, so of course you’ll need to dress up” Dallon smiles softly. “Isn’t halloween not for another two weeks?” I ask and Dallon grins handsomely “You’re right, but halloween is already in the air isn’t it?”

 

“That’s not the only thing that’s in the air” Naomi mumbles to herself and I hope and pray to god that Dallon didn’t hear that. I swear I’ll slaughter her later. Dallon, thankfully doesn’t pay attention to what she says and still is staring at me waiting for my answer.

 

“Sure” I say, “I’d love to go” does this count as flirting? And wait a second since when does nerdy little me get invited to Dallon weekes’ parties? Finally my luck seems to be picking up. Naomi smiles at me, a coy smile and i kick her shin under the table; she yelps and then smiles again, this time it’s hinted with a warning. She goes to open her mouth but is suddenly interrupted by a short boy with jet black hair and tattoos covering his arms I knew him as Frank iero, trouble maker, vegan, boyfriend of one Mr. Gerard way. 

 

“You” He says, approaching, and slamming his hands on the table. For a second I think he’s about to yell at her and then his face softens and I realise he’s just messing around. “Hey bitch” he adds, picking up her books and her backpack. He’s unconsciously a gentleman, no wonder Gerard fell for him. Naomi stretches, and jumps to her feet. With an added yawn she says “what’s up short stack? You got those notes for me?”

 

“I do but if you call me short stack one more time I will let you fail” He retorts, a soft smile on his handsome face. She pauses to think, nods in agreement, turns to me and Dallon and knocks on the table before saying “See ya boys” and with one final wink and cackle (because frank cracked a joke) my lifeline for normal conversations with a popular boy, disappears down a corridor.

 

I gulp. Audibly.

 

“So, Party?” My mouth moves by itself and I turn to face Dallon Weekes head on. His eyes so blue that I feel I might drown. Damn you, Naomi. Damn you.

 

“Yeah It won’t be for another two weeks or so….but uh…”

 

“You know-” I begin, not really able to stop myself “I never really see you in the library” 

 

Dallon’s eyes widen a little “Oh yeah, that’s-cause I-I Study different things in my spare time, and today was my spare time” He smiles and my eyes lower to the book in his hands. “So you’re learning all about menstruation and menopause?” I ask, trying to stifle a giggle. Dallon goes red as he quickly looks down at his book. “I uh, my mom is...going through...it” He utters, he laughs a low seductive kind of laugh and my heart beats a little faster. 

 

“I’m sorry, I saw you come in and wanted to thank you for your help earlier” He says, his smile big on his face and oh fuck, he’s cute. No not just cute, but like, drop dead fucking hot cute. 

 

“Wasn’t much help” It’s my turn to go red again “I just-you were hurt”

 

“Yeah well...your rover comment took my mind off things” He leans forward a little and a strand of his hair falls over his eyebrows and I want to push it back so badly.

 

“Listen I was thinking-” He’s cut off by the buzzing of my incredibly rude phone and I pick it up. 

 

**Pete: You’re 20 minutes late, Coffee Cold, donut eaten by moi. Apologies. Get your ass here?**

 

“Shit!”  I exclaim, jumping up so quick my chair falls over. I scramble to grab my things and Dallon just watches me all puzzled-like, tilted head like a dog. “Is everything okay?” He asks as I stuff books into my backpack. “Yeah-Yeah!” I huff out “Just late to see a friend that’s all”

 

“Oh...well...see you soon?” He says, or asks, I don’t know which but he sticks out his none injured had and I pause before I take it. His hand is soft, and warm and my heart does a front flip feeling the warmth from it. He looks at me with flushed cheeks and says “Okay, see you later, I guess” and I nod and I turn and walk briskly away.

 

_ Dallon POV _

 

I watch him walk away and a part of me misses him. How do you miss someone you barely know?

 

I watch him until he walks out the door and disappears and I bite my lip and smile. Turning to put my book back on its shelf. He’s coming to my party at least. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this, like I’m happy, I don’t know why I feel this way. Like I’m on cloud 9. It’s strange. His smile, it does something to me. He seems like such a good guy, we’d probably be great friends. I can’t stop smiling.

 

Actually, I remember the last time I felt this way, it was when I met...Breezey.

 

I turn back to look at the empty doorway, that has long since had a strawberry blonde boy walk through it and I realise.

  
Fuck. I think I  _ like _ him.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 soon!


End file.
